The Jailer
by melissakay
Summary: There's a new prisoner in Rivendell's dungeons, and Freya Featherstone, Elrond's niece (twice removed) likes the look of the King Under the Mountain! Will she help him escape or let him rot? And will she expect payment for services rendered!


**The Jailer**

He sat in the cell, head cradled in his huge hands. I couldn't see his face for the curtain of long brown hair streaked with grey, but from the sound of his breathing, he was either asleep or close to it.

I knocked on the cell door. 'Breakfast' I called, in a low voice. 'Don't get too excited though, it's no bacon and eggs.'

He lifted his head to look at me, and I was at once captivated and dismayed. His blue eyes were visible from across the room, even under those impressive brows of his. But I wasn't supposed to notice things like that. I also wasn't supposed to notice that he was naked above the waist. My cheeks burned as I knelt to push the bowl of oatmeal under the door.

'It's got honey in it,' I murmured, as he crouched to pick up his breakfast; then turned and placed it on the end of his bed as if disappointed at its contents. 'I hope you don't mind.'

'Thank you,' he said, in a low, husky purr that did strange things to my innards. 'Do you know what they're going to do to me?'

'The elves, you mean?' I asked. 'I have no idea.'

'What are you?' he asked, turning back toward me. 'I'm sorry to be blunt… And believe me, this is not meant as an insult, but… you don't look like an elf.'

'I'm human,' I told him, brushing my dark hair behind an ear as if to prove it. 'Well, actually, half-elf, half human.'

His brow puckered in consternation. 'And they make you work here?'

'They don't make me,' I assured him. 'I volunteered.'

'Why?'

'I like to help people who are down on their luck,' I replied. 'You certainly fit that bill, Mr Oakenshield.'

'I'm no Mister,' he corrected me. 'I'm just me.'

'I've heard a lot about you' I told him. 'And from what I've heard, you deserve a title. You were the prince of your people. So really, I should be calling you My Liege; or Your Highness…'

'Stop,' he said, holding up a hand. But I knew he wasn't really upset with me because one end of his lips had turned upward. 'If you're not a dwarf, I'm not your prince.'

'Maybe so,' I conceded, 'But its respect, isn't it. The stories that are getting around Middle Earth about you fighting for your homeland… they're nothing short of inspiring, if you don't mind me saying.'

He looked surprised. 'There are stories about me?'

'Oh yes. About all of you – and the hobbit you're travelling with.'

'Who has been telling these stories?' He reached out and grabbed the bars only inches from my face, but I didn't flinch when he leaned in close. Those eyes of his burned like blue fire. I felt my feet take me the extra step closer, until we were mere centimetres away from each other, and drew in a breath that tasted of pure forest, and glacial rivers, and barbequed conies. He smelled unlike any dwarf I'd ever encountered. He smelled like a man.

'G-Gandalf the Grey,' I stammered. 'Of course, not first hand… I heard this from a friend of mine who works in a tavern in Bree. She heard it from her beau, a blacksmith…'

'It matters not,' said Oakenshield, with a throaty chuckle. 'If it was from the mouth of Gandalf it is not malicious. He would not have told anyone of our plans who would wish us harm, My Lady.'

'Oh, but if you are not a prince, I am not a lady,' I replied, playfully.

'You are most definitely a lady, Miss… I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name.'

'Freya,' I replied.

'Miss Freya… I wonder if I could trouble you for a drink of water.'

'It's no trouble at all,' I told him. 'I'll be right back.'

I _was_ right back, but not before I managed to pat my cheeks with some cold water and check my reflection in a piece of looking glass. I appeared flushed and flustered, so I took a couple of extra minutes to force myself to think of things that weren't devilishly handsome dwarf princes – things like orcs, and giant spiders, and my Great Uncle Milt. That worked a treat, so I poured a mug of cold water and hurried back to the cells.

I let out a little sigh of disappointment when I reached his cell door and saw that he'd put on a beige coloured undershirt. But I could still see inches of smooth, creamy skin between the edges of the V-neck and was secretly thrilled to note that the sleeves of the shirt were too tight around his broad shoulders and well defined biceps!

Stop this at once, I told myself. He's a _dwarf._ Yes, he's tall for his kind, and well-spoken, _and _he has lovely manners, but he's still a dwarf. He's the enemy to our kind! Father would be furious if I took up with…

'Did I say something to offend you?' he asked, interrupting my private internal scolding.

'No! Why?'

'You look… upset.' He reached through the bars and took the mug from me, his fingers closing around mine and sending ripples of delicious electricity up my arms.

I gulped. 'No… I'm… I'm fine.' For once I was glad that the male of any species were utterly incapable of telling whether a girl liked them or not!

His hand was still enclosed around mine. I could not let the mug go and if truth be told, did not want to. I could have stood there and gazed up into his beautiful eyes for an eternity. I know that sounds sickly sweet and syrupy and completely daft besides, but it's true. I, Freya Featherstone, of the Woodland Realm, was falling for a _dwarf_, of all things!

He seemed to realise that he was keeping me from letting go of the mug because he took the handle with his free hand, and relinquished mine. As soon as his touch was gone, I wanted it back.

'Thank you, My Lady,' he said, and proceeded to gulp down the water like a man who'd spent the past couple of days in the desert. A stray drop or two escaped his lips, splashed against his collarbone and ran down out of my line of sight. My own lips felt parched and swollen at the same time, and my pulse was pounding in my ears. I had to get out of there, I knew it, but couldn't make myself turn and walk away. It was as if _I_ was the one in chains; locked behind bars, unable to save myself, and I couldn't give a damn.

He lowered the mug and let out a shuddery breath. 'I suppose if I'm to be executed, I shouldn't expect too many more of these.' He held out the mug to me.

'Executed?' I gasped. _No!_ 'What makes you think that will be your fate?'

'I don't know' he replied. 'Nobody's told me anything.'

'I will try to find out,' I told him. 'But I'm _sure_ they won't kill you! Elrond is a very reasonable man. He will see sense. I will _make_ him see sense.'

Oakenshield shook his great mane, vehemently. 'No, Freya! I won't have you getting into trouble on my account.'

'I'm not going to be in any trouble,' I assured him. 'Elrond is my uncle twice removed. He will listen to me, I am sure of it! They will not execute you. _I _will not let them.' I rose up to my full height (a paltry five feet three inches – which oddly, still made me shorter than him) and lifted my chin in defiance. 'They cannot kill the King under the Mountain.'

He chuckled, a blush just visible above his short, well-trimmed beard. 'I am no king.'

Handsome and modest too, I thought. Be still my heart!

'King or no,' I said, 'Prince or no, you do not deserve to die.'

'I… I am humbled by your allegiance,' he said. 'But why are you so invested in my fate? You're half elf. You're supposed to hate my kind.'

'Your kind has done nothing to earn my wrath,' I told him. 'That's millennia-old feuding I want no part of! I may be half elf but I'm also half human. And we humans don't have the mistrust of dwarves that elves do.'

'But even so…' he started to say, but I hushed him, reaching out and pressing a finger to his lips.

'Freya' he whispered, his eyes flickering over my shoulder as if worried we'd be overheard. 'Why are you going out of your way to help me?'

My finger traced his lips as he spoke. _Don't you know_? I wanted to be brave enough to ask. _Can't you see it in the way I stare at you? Feel it in my trembling hands?! Hear the way my voice wavers whenever I look directly at you? You're quite possibly the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. More than any elf I've met, that's for sure! _

'I want to,' I whispered back. It was supposed to be 'I want you' but I just didn't have the nerve. Not yet, anyway!

He took my hand, bent it gently in his and kissed the back of it, his eyes never leaving mine. Despite being a maiden, and unmarried, and therefore not practiced in the art of love, I couldn't help but imagine those lips on mine; not to mention other places! I was not a fan of beards, either, but his was negligible compared with the chin-mops of others of his kind. It was more of a goatee, really. And goatees can be sexy, right?! Especially when they're just past the scratchy stage, and tickle your skin when he's kissing you…

_Stop it_, my mind warned. You cannot think like this! You must not imagine such things! Elrond might spare his life, but if Father guessed at even _half _of what you're thinking, he'd have Thorin's beautiful head cut off! Oh… it's Mr Oakenshield, to you, by the way!

'I'll… I'll find out…' I stammered. 'I'll be right back.'

'Freya…'

I turned at the door to the dungeons, which were empty but for one cell – his. 'What?'

'Thank you.'

'But what has he been charged with?' I was getting frustrated, damn it! Uncle Elrond could be awfully obtuse when he had a mind to be. I don't even think he knew why the dwarf was his prisoner, apart from the fact that he just didn't like dwarves.

'Trespassing.'

'But that doesn't carry a prison term! He must have done something worse.'

'That's classified.'

'Uncle' I said, sternly, 'You can't pull rank on me! I see the prisoners on a daily basis. If you won't tell me, he will.'

'Then ask him.'

'Why are you being so stubborn about this? You know, I don't even think you remember why you had him arrested!'

'Theft,' Elrond said, suddenly. 'He tried to steal some gold. You know how dwarves like gold.'

I tilted my head and observed him. He was pretending to care far too much for the state of his cuticles. His hair was also bundled on his head in a strange design that made him look like a bird about to take flight. I do believe my uncle was becoming _more_ self-interested in his old age, not less!

'So what's his sentence, if you're not even sure of his crime?'

'I said, he committed larceny! He stole from the vaults at Rivendell. He must be punished.'

'Do you have proof of this?'

Uncle Elrond would not look at me directly. 'I have the word of my trusted…'

'Do you have proof? Physical, irrefutable evidence that points to him being at the scene? Was he caught in the act?'

'Why do you care what happens to the dwarf?' Elrond asked. 'It's almost as if you…' His expression changed, like a light had been switched on inside his head. 'Oh… _No_.'

'No what?'

'Freya… I warned you this might happen if you spent all your time in the dungeons with outlaws and criminals! Didn't I say that it was only a matter of time before you fell for one of those scoundrels? You're a pretty, impressionable young woman and they're bound to see that and take advantage…'

'Nobody has taken advantage of anybody,' I assured him. 'He's been a perfect gentleman, and I just can't see how he could be capable of a crime bad enough to put him in prison!'

'Of course you can't,' grumbled Uncle Elrond. 'You're in love, and love is blind. He's got you in his thrall, that manipulative little weasel! I forbid you to go back down there.'

'I work down there,' I reminded him. 'It's my job, and I'm good at it. And you can't stop me.'

He glared at me. 'You want to make a bet?'

'Uncle! This is _so_ not fair! Why don't you just let him go?'

Elrond guffawed. 'So you can take up with _him_? My niece, with a _dwarf_? I'd rather see him hung from a great height…'

'No!'

I became aware that everyone in the leafy, indoor/outdoor courtyard could hear my protestations. Six blonde and four brunette elven heads turned to survey me, and from the look of them they were not impressed with what they witnessed. But still, damn them. Damn them all to hell!

Elrond was seething. 'Freya! Control your temper or I shall have the dwarf drawn and quartered.'

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Tears stung the corners of my eyes. I knew now what I had to do. 'Yes, Uncle,' I said, demurely. 'I'm sorry I lost my temper.'

Thankfully, he didn't question my hasty about-face. 'And I'm sorry I lost mine. I should not have threatened to kill Oakenshield – that was a step too far. But he must pay for his crime, my dear. Two years in the cells. That will cure him of any desire to take what doesn't belong to him.'

'Two years! Isn't that a touch excessive?'

'Dwarves live extended lives like us, Freya. Two years will be like a month and a half to him. Don't worry about it. Have a pomegranate.' Elrond reached into the bowl of fruit on his table and held out the abovementioned exotic fruit. I waved it away – at first.

'I'm not hungry,' I said; then 'But I might be, later.' Taking it from him, I bid him farewell and left the courtyard.

'A pomegranate?' said Thorin, raising an eyebrow. 'I don't have a knife… The guards took all my weapons. How am I supposed to eat it?'

'I have one' I told him. Lifting my skirts, I was careful to turn my calf to show off its best angle as I slid my dagger from its halter. I was more than pleased to see the way his eyes glanced up quickly and his cheeks coloured!

I sliced the fruit in half and put it on a plate. 'Here you go,' I said. 'I'm sorry about the oatmeal – the kitchen always makes it too lumpy.'

'Thank you,' he said, taking the plate and handing me the bowl of half-eaten oatmeal. I left him to it, glad of a brief respite from his presence, if only to calm my hammering heart and dry my sweaty palms! I couldn't believe the effect he was having on me after knowing him for so short a time. Stopping around the corner, I wiped my hands on my skirt, and tried to slow my breathing, which I hoped would in turn slow my pulse! Yet just when I thought I had it all under control, it was undone the second he looked at me.

'What did your uncle say?' His lips were tinged red from the pomegranate juice. I found myself staring at them in fascination. 'Huh?'

'What did Elrond say? When you asked about my sentence?'

'He's not going to execute you,' I told him. 'He's sentencing you to two years down here, though. I tried to reason with him but he's awfully stubborn. I'm afraid the only way you're getting out of here is to escape.'

He chewed his lip, thoughtfully. 'Well, that's better than death, I suppose.'

I frowned. 'You're just going to sit down here for two years? _Really_?'

He gave me a conspiratorial wink and I had to stifle a swoon – a feat I managed, but just barely!

'No, not really,' he said. 'I don't suppose you have a plan?'

'As a matter of fact, I do,' I said, with a serene smile. 'Well, it's half a plan, at the moment. Actually, more of an idea, really. But it's all I have.'

'Well,' said the King under the Mountain, his intense blue eyes turning my entire body to jelly yet again. 'Let's hear it then.'

The keys on their oversized gold loop hung from a hook in the chambers of my direct supervisor, the chief Jailer, Bruno the Great. He wasn't called Bruno the Great because of any familial significance or because he was inordinately clever or brave. No, Bruno was nicknamed the Great for a far more simple reason. He was fat. Grossly, obscenely fat. In fact, Bruno was so fat that he found it difficult to move without his blood pressure rising significantly. Something which would be of great help in my plan to bust my so-far unrequited-love from his prison cell; but it wouldn't stop Bruno from bellowing for assistance if I was caught trying to make off with the keys! And for all his girth, he was the world's lightest sleeper.

So I had to be even lighter on my feet than usual as I tiptoed into Bruno's "office" and found him, as usual, fast asleep in his armchair. The keys hung on a hook in the corner, behind his chair. If I wasn't careful I'd risk brushing the chair as I squeezed past it, and although I'm no heifer, I'm not as lean as some female elves, either. My human genes have given me what my father likes to refer to as 'good birthing hips' and a decent cleavage. Still, I thought I could slide into that corner pocket without Bruno hearing or feeling a single thing!

Despite a few seconds where I literally stopped breathing, I managed to slip past the chair and reach the wall by the window. With the back of Bruno's bald head in my peripheral vision, I glanced up at the keys and reached for them, wincing and hoping that they didn't jingle at precisely the wrong time. But they didn't, and I was able to hide them in my skirts as I snuck back past the chair and hurried, silently as I could, out the door. As soon as I was around the corner and down the hall, I breathed a huge sigh of relief!

The corridor leading down to the dungeons was dark, lit only by a single brazier on the wall. The night was cool so I'd worn a cloak over my favourite dress, the one that brought out the green in my eyes, and was tight in the bodice, forcing my cleavage up where Thorin couldn't possibly ignore it! He had been such a gentleman to date, but as much as I loved being called his lady, I wanted his actions to be anything _but _gentlemanly! So despite the brisk air underground, I slipped the cloak off and carried it under my arm, the hand holding the key ring tucked safely beneath the folds of the cloak.

Thorin looked up as I reached his cell. His eyes widened. 'You got it?'

I nodded, and showed him.

He grinned, and approached the bars. 'I could _kiss_ you,' he said, in a husky voice that just about did my head in. I gulped and looked up at him. 'There will be time for that later,' I joked, flirtatiously. 'But you better believe I'm gonna hold you to it.'

His cheeks turned a deep pink that made his blue eyes stand out even more than usual. 'Th-that's okay,' he stammered. 'S-so what's the plan? We can't go out the front door.'

'No,' I said. 'But there _is _a secret back door. And guess who's got the key?'

Thorin frowned. 'Who?'

I smiled. 'Me, silly! Come on!' I unlocked his cell, keeping an ear out for noises from the entrance to the dungeons, but could hear nothing. Thorin slipped out of his prison, shrugged on his own cloak, and before I knew what was what, threw his arms around me and pulled me close for a hug.

'Not here,' I whispered, wishing like crazy that we were already at my pre-arranged hideout so we could continue this in private. But all good things come to those who wait, I guess, so I pulled away, reluctantly. 'We don't want to waste time. Let's go.'

If the corridor leading to the dungeons was dark, the one accessing the secret exit was even worse. I had to keep my hand against the wall to gage where I was and Thorin had to keep a hand on my shoulder in order not to wander the wrong way and end up lost. I didn't mind – although I would have preferred the hand was a lot lower!

Finally we reached the secret door and I unlocked it with the master key. We slipped into the moonlit paddock behind the jail and made our way along the fence line, as quietly as we could. 'See that path over there?' I whispered, pointing at a sandy line in the grass heading off into a grove of trees in the near distance. 'We're going that way. My cousin lives about a mile from here. We can make good time if we walk. Elrond won't think to look there because I made sure I told him Haldir and I weren't talking to each other at the moment.'

'You've really covered all your bases,' said Thorin, sounding impressed. 'How long have you been planning this?'

From the moment I first laid eyes on _you,_ I wanted to say, but didn't. 'Since this afternoon,' I said lightly. 'Come on; let's get you safely away from here!'

We barely talked on the way to Haldir's. I tried to make polite conversation but my heart was pounding so hard it hurt to draw breath and I think Thorin might have been preoccupied by other matters, like where the rest of his group were waiting for him. I didn't dare dream that he was actually as nervous as I was. I'd as good as told him that I expected him to kiss me. That was as forward as I'd ever been with a member of the opposite sex, and while I was proud of my moment of daring, I was also scared out of my mind by what was to come! The closest thing to a kiss I'd ever had was when Legolas of Mirkwood _had_ to kiss me during my coming of age birthday party. We'd been drinking his Dad's home-made brew and had decided to play a game of Spin the Bottle. Legolas was sweet but totally not my type. We bumped noses, and swapped spit, but in the end it was awkward as the day is long and we haven't spoken of it since. I had an idea that this kiss – the second in my entire life so far – was going to be _vastly_ different!

'So… here we are,' I said, stepping up to the plate (literally as well as figuratively) and knocking on Haldir's door – a big, arched thing carved into the side of a massive old tree.

'He lives in a _tree_?'

I nodded. 'More or less.'

Haldir opened the door before I had a chance to knock again. 'Freya! How nice to see you! And who might this be?' His sharp eyes took in Thorin's un-dwarf-like tall stature. 'A _man_?! Well, dear cousin, I must say, it's _about time_….'

'Haldir, can we just come in please?' I begged, glancing around. 'We really need your help.'

After ingesting some of my cousin's attempt at what could loosely be described as tea, I told him that we needed to hide out for a while because my father didn't approve of Thorin and we wanted some 'alone time' before we were forced apart. It was unnerving coming up with such blatant fibs with the eyes of both elf and dwarf upon me. Haldir's just got bigger and bigger while Thorin's remained guarded. Although I thought I saw a glimmer of amusement in them a couple of times! Especially when I lied about my father wanting to 'hang, draw and quarter' Thorin. Well, they do say the best lies come with a shred of truth. It may not have been my father making that threat, but it _had_ been made, nonetheless!

After tea, Haldir showed us 'upstairs' to his guest room, which amounted to a wooden platform in a fork of the giant tree, with leaf fronds for walls and silk sheets stretched over a mattress filled with goose feathers. 'Have fun, kids,' said my cousin with a salacious grin. I wanted to push him out of the tree for that, but thankfully suppressed the urge!

'Wow, this is… awkward,' said Thorin, blushing furiously the moment we were alone. 'You can have the bed. I'll just nap up against this branch…'

'Don't you dare,' I said, interrupting him. I sucked in a breath and said, 'You have something to give me, remember?' I took a step closer and pushed my ample chest out. The empire line on my dress emphasized my bust to its best advantage. Thorin's eyes were drawn to it, just as I knew they would be. 'You're not going to back out now, are you?'

'Of course not,' he said, his cheeks aflame and his eyes not knowing whether to court my cleavage or my face. 'I did… _do _want to kiss you, Freya. I just… It's been a while.'

'I don't care,' I told him. 'Practice makes perfect.' Steady on there, I told myself. You're coming on a tad strong! You don't want to frighten him off altogether now, do you?

He chuckled, ran a hand through his wavy mane of hair, and bit his lip. 'You're not backward in coming forward, are you?' he asked.

I shrugged. 'I don't believe in hiding what I feel.'

'I wish I had that luxury.'

'You do,' I told him. 'You can be yourself with me.' I tilted my head slightly. His eyes were dark in the muted light from the moon. Dark and soulful and magnetic. The things I wanted to do with him… _to_ him! There were books with titles in languages I didn't understand, but the pictures spoke a thousand words. I had never done those things before, but I sure as heck wanted to do them now!

Just as I was about to make my move, I heard Haldir call. 'Cousin,' he shouted, urgently, 'I see some of Elrond's guards heading this way! My invisibility cloak is under the bed. Put it over both of you, and stay quiet.'

We did as we were told, lying on the feather mattress with Haldir's magical cloak shielding us from unwanted eyes. I heard the guards ask Haldir if he'd seen his cousin lately, and smiled to myself as Haldir scoffed. '_Her_? Why would I give her sanctuary? We had a falling out recently. We're not speaking to each other. In fact, if I never see her again, it will be too soon.'

Way to go, cuz, I thought. You're just a little bit _too_ good at acting, there!

'Well, you won't mind if we take a look around then, will you?' one of the guards asked.

I sucked in a breath and buried my face in Thorin's strong shoulder. He wound an arm around me and shushed me with a finger to my lips. 'They can't see us,' he whispered. 'Just be quiet, like Haldir says.'

The guards seemed to take an age walking up the wooden spiral staircase to Haldir's guest room but once there, they only seemed to have a brief glimpse around before deciding that he hadn't lied about harbouring a couple of fugitives from the law. I thanked my lucky stars that my cousin hadn't reacted when the guard mentioned that Thorin had busted out of prison. I was going to have to get Haldir a really good gift for his upcoming birthday, this year!

'They're gone,' Thorin whispered. 'Lucky Haldir had this cloak! Or we both would have been spending the better part of next year in prison.'

'I like it _much_ better here,' I said, playfully, toying with the drawstring on his shirt, threatening to pull it open any second. I gave him my best flirty eyes, and shy smile.

He chuckled. 'Yes… So do I; actually.'

'So,' I said, feeling more than comfortable lying on a Thorin-shaped mattress! 'Where were we, before we were rudely interrupted?'

He smiled. 'Well I don't know about you, but I think I was about to do _this_.' He rolled me until I was on my back on the mattress, and lay beside me. Then he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. I don't know how long it had been for him, but he sure as hell didn't seem to need any practice! His kiss tasted sweet and salty at the same time, and it was a good thing I was already lying down, because the firm yet gentle pressure of his mouth on mine turned my entire body into a mass of quivering jelly!

I let him kiss a trail down my chin to my cleavage, where the ends of his hair tickled my skin. He unfastened the front of my dress, his pretty eyes intent on making me squirm with their silent appraisal. When I was laid out for him, he kissed my lips again, and turned his attention – and his lips and tongue - to my breasts. It was a strange, but very welcome feeling, and it introduced a whole new sensation to other parts of me, filling me with a warm tingle and then a hot, aching burn. His kisses travelled still further down, his long fingers unbuttoning the front of my dress and pushing my undergarments down my legs as he tickled the skin on my ribs and belly and hips with his mouth, short beard and long hair. And then with his tongue… Oh God, I just about bent in half with the shock of it! How did he know how to do _that?_! He seemed to enjoy making me gasp and sigh, because he lingered there, flickering and caressing me with his tongue until I arched my back, my eyes rolling back in their sockets as I quickly came to orgasm.

He moved back up my body and took one of my hands in his. Wordlessly, he showed me how he wanted to be touched, and I made him roll onto his back while I gave as good as I got, with both my hands and my mouth. I liked the sounds he was making; they were turning me on almost as much as what he'd done to me! I wrapped my lips around his cock and sucked firmly, watching him arch his back and struggle to control his breathing. When I thought he'd had enough I moved back up his body and straddled his hips, taking him into me, and started to rock back and forth, slowly at first, then faster as he gripped my hips with his strong hands and controlled the tempo. I started to feel a familiar warmth flush through me as his grip grew firmer and his pace quickened. Twice in the space of as many minutes?! I thought. Is that even _possible_?! Apparently so, because it was happening, and I had to remember that my cousin laid just metres below us on his own platform, and could probably hear any loud noises! So I bit my lip hard and tried not to cry out as my climax hit me full force. Thorin came at the same time – quietly, as in everything – and lay beneath me, sated, with a shit-eating grin on his gorgeous face.

I collapsed over him and kissed his chest, his shoulder, and the side of his neck where his pulse was visible. 'That was _amazing_,' I said, tired but deliriously happy. What was that thing I read about the first time being painful?! I barely noticed a thing! Sure, there was a little pinch when he entered me, and some spotting, but I barely noticed the pain until I was lying beside him, recovering. He turned his head and kissed my forehead.

'_You_ were amazing,' he whispered. His thumb trailed lazily up and down the flesh of my upper arm, tickling me and inadvertently starting up a whole new process in the pit of my stomach. Oh no, I thought. I'm _so_ not ready for _that_, again! 'So were you,' I said, putting a hand over his and stopping him in his tracks. 'But I really need to sleep. We've got to find your friends tomorrow.'

'Freya, you've already done so much for me… You don't need to get yourself into any more strife with the elves…' he started to say, but I silenced him with a hand on his cock. 'It's no trouble,' I told him, squeezing gently. 'No trouble at all.'

He closed his eyes and ceased to argue.

And that, my dear readers, is the story of why I was never allowed to tend to the prisoners in the dungeons below Rivendell, ever again!

The End.


End file.
